


Banana Pancakes

by orphan_account



Series: Oneshots [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Rain, there really isnt anything else, this is a banana pancake fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro has a job to get to; Dave and John keep him from leaving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banana Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> Has this been done already? Yes.
> 
> fuCK. edit::: if you dont know what this is based off of, listen to banana pancakes by jack johnson

You wake up to the sound of your alarm buzzing. The light from the window illuminates the room slightly into a lighter, opaque blue, and the red of the alarm clock numbers light up a small, fading path on the bed sheets. You let your eyes adjust to the light that's not even that bright. The alarm reads 5:00 as it always does.

You sit up slowly, untangling yourself from Dave's limbs, replacing yourself with a pillow for John. The bed creaks and you move to the edge, trying not to land on any of their legs. The red light shines in your face when you pass by it. When you get to the doorway, you look back at the two of them sleeping, the feeling of guilt overwhelming you, but you know that you have to leave. You have a job to get to.

You have to take care of them.

You eat a small breakfast—eggs and one slice of toast. You change into your work clothes and leave for the bathroom to brush your teeth.

You squirt the toothpaste on rather harshly—you don't really know why– and you feel arms around your torso.

"Dave?"

"Dirk. Please don't go," he says weakly, resting his head on the back of your neck.

You put your toothbrush down and turn him around to face you. You take his cheek in your palm and tilt his head up to look at you.

"Davey, go back to bed."

"You can't go to work. You look awful, and all three of us know you _feel_ awful. Dirk,  _please_."

"Maybe tomorrow," you say, kissing his forehead.

"That better be a serious fucking consideration."

He goes back to the bedroom, and you pick up your toothbrush shakily. You really want to stay. You want them happy.

They both kiss you goodbye when you're at the door—they usually don't do that because they're usually sleeping.

Work is the same old thing. You lift and move heavy stuff. The details are boring even though you really like complex things. You move a box, you carry another one, and you get paid pretty well.

But not as much as you do from home. You consider your home job more of a hobby. You create custom puppets and you sell them. Each one is created by hand, so the price for each one is high. You usually get to make five a day, but you can only imagine how many you could make without your actual job in the way of mornings.

When you get home you drop your belongings on the ground and pass out on the couch like you usually do. You also ignore the sting of hunger in your stomach and the pang of guilt for leaving them.

-

You wake up to the sound of your alarm buzzing. The alarm reads 5:00, and the light from the window illuminates the room slightly into a darker blue than yesterday. The red of the alarm clock numbers light up a small, fading path on the bed sheets. Rain taps the window gently as it pours outside.

You sit up slowly, untangling yourself from Dave's limbs, replacing yourself with a pillow for John. The bed creaks and you crawl to the edge, trying not to land on any of their legs.

You feel a light tug at the bottom of your shirt.

"Dirk."

You turn around and see John rubbing at his eyes.

"Hey, I gotta leave s—"

"You should stay," he nervously cuts you off.

You pause.

You really suppose you should. You feel bad for turning down Dave yesterday. But you have to take care of them. You have to provide for them.

"I'm sorry, John, I—"

He grabs your hand in both of his.

"Dirk, it's raining. You said you usually don't do anything when it rains. We could sleep in! You get home exhausted and you work in your room the rest of the day. We… we _miss_ you. Dave and me. You could call in sick. Just…"

"Alright," you say before you can comprehend it.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

You don't really mean to say it. Your mind is telling you to go to work, but you feel half asleep, John is smiling like Christmas came early, and most of all, you feel _guilty_. You love both of them so much. You can't really tell if the guilt is from skipping work or not having time for them.

John tugs you down with his hands and cuddles with you immediately. Dave subconsciously wraps his arms around you, and they both effectively trap you from going anywhere.

Sleep hasn't been this peaceful in a long time.

-

You sleep in until ten, curled up around Dave, but John no where in sight. There's no sun out the window, only rain. It's brighter than it was before, but most of the light pours in from the doorway. Dave is on his phone, taking pictures of you both.

"Oh, good morning," he says, kissing you on the nose. "You have awful eye bags."

"Where's John?"

"Makin' pancakes," he says before locking his phone and rolling on top of you.

He rests his head on your chest, and you comb your hand through his hair. He mumbles something into your chest that you can't hear. You ask him to speak up, but he still mumbles quietly.

"If you don't speak up, I'm just gonna laugh and pretend I understood what you said. So if you want me to lie, I can laugh right now."

He moves his head to rest in the crook of your neck, almost like he fits there perfectly.

"I just. I'm glad you're here."

You smile into his forehead and he relaxes.

"I'm glad you're both with me."

John calls out to you both for breakfast, and you get up. Dave holds your hand for the short walk to the kitchen. You and Dave sit at the table and look out the window, where you can see the rain pour gently on the sidewalk. John kisses your cheek and serves you his special banana pancakes with a smiley face of whipped cream on top. He goes around to Dave, kisses him on the cheek, and serves him the same thing. He places out a serving of fruits for the both of you.

The both of you eat in a happy silence, listening to the calming sounds of the rain, and John comes back with his guitar. He plays a relaxed but happy song, and you and Dave hum along to it.

When you finish eating, they put your dishes in the sink for you. They both grab either of your hands and bring you to your room. They push you down onto the pillows, and John climbs on top of you, resting his head beside you. Dave closes the curtains, climbs up on the other side of you, and kisses your forehead.

You tug his head down so you can kiss him. You feel Dave's lips on yours, and John's on your neck. You explore Dave's mouth with your tongue and sigh shakily when John starts nibbling at your collar bone.

They kiss you for a long time, and you're okay with that because you finally feel close to them. It's been a while. 

You think that you'll quit your job. You imagine how many puppets you can make from home and how many you can sell a day with the help of John and Dave.

Yeah, you'll probably do that.

But right now, your focus is on them. You hold them both close to you, and they hold hands over your chest. You lay in bed for hours between talking and napping, ignoring the telephone ringing that's probably your boss.

You look over at the closed curtains, and it feels as if there's no one else in the world.

You like that.

-

You wake up to the sound of your alarm buzzing. You get up slowly, but you feel hands pulling you back down. John holds you down.

"Absolutely not, Dirk," he says.

Dave rolls over slowly to turn off the alarm. The red of the clock lights up his face, but then it disappears as he turns back to cuddle you. You fall asleep a minute later.

-

You wake up to the telephone ringing thirty minutes later.

"Guys. I should probably go get that."

"Nah," says John from your left.

"I agree with John. Two on one, Dirk. Goodnight," comes Dave on your right.

You should probably be ashamed of yourself for agreeing with their logic, but you're tired, and who the fuck even _cares_ about the phone anymore? Who cares about _life_? You have two boyfriends and you honestly could care less about anyone or anything else. You don't care about your job, or your life outside of your house, or that the phone stops ringing and plays a voicemail.

You don't _care_ because those things don't _matter_ to you.

The only things that matter and that you now care about are John and Dave's happiness, and they're happy when you're happy at home with them.

You'll change your plans for them, quit your job, and bring them to a fancy dinner probably. You love them, and nothing can change that because _nothing else_ matters to you.

**Author's Note:**

> ✌️


End file.
